Aca-Annihilation
by Chrmdpoet
Summary: As if Aubrey isn't a giant upgrade from stained jeans and Treble-Maker toning. Beca should be thankful that Aubrey would even consider holding her hand, let alone faking an entire relationship with her. (Mitchsen fake relationship & implied BeChloe)


**A/N: Written for one of my TROPE Tumblr Prompts, using the 'Fake Relationship' Trope. I'm considering continuing this, but complete for now. Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Aca-Annihilation

Aubrey cannot believe this is happening. Her almost-dream romance ends in an affair, which is mortifying enough (though Aubrey is a proud woman and slapped her boyfriend's face with all the righteous rage a proud woman carries in the wake of such a betrayal), but to rub salt in the already gaping wound, that aca-asshole decides to bring his _new girlfriend/dirty mistress _(a _brunette!_) to the senior retreat, which Aubrey only finds out about three days in advance.

It has literally been less than forty-eight hours since their break-up. What kind of an assholish assy asshole is in a new relationship less than two days after his old one ends?

Aubrey stabs a picture of his face with her fork.

"Okay, sweetie, let's just, maybe," Chloe carefully pries Aubrey's hand open with a grunt, "let go of … unh, the fork." Aubrey glares but lets Chloe yank the fork out of the table and hide it behind the fish tank.

"What am I going to do?" Aubrey asks shrilly once Chloe settles across from her again. "I can't show up there _alone _if he's going to be there with his … his _skank_!"

Chloe's eyes widen, and Aubrey nods. "Yes, I said it, and I think it's perfectly warranted in this situation."

Aubrey can tell Chloe is trying not to laugh, and as much as she loves her, she kind of hates her for it. This is not funny. This is Advanced Disaster, and Aubrey doesn't have the right textbook. She doesn't have _any _textbook.

She stares at the now holey face of her ex, and anger bubbles in her gut as she thinks of him canoodling with brown-hair-what's-her-tits on_their _senior retreat, and then it hits her.

Her eyes widen, and Chloe perks up. "It's simple," Aubrey says. "I'm going to have to bring a date."

"But you don't have a date," Chloe offers, and Aubrey stares at her, deadpan, until the redhead flinches. "Sorry."

"It's like my father always says," Aubrey tells her. "If you can't even play the game, then you might as well sit the hell down."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means you can't win if you're not even in the game, Chloe," Aubrey hisses, snapping her fingers, "Get with it. We've got planning to do. We've got people to bribe. We've got a relationship to build. Chop chop!"

* * *

><p>Aubrey sighs and presses her hand to her forehead. "How did this happen to me?" she sings under her breath and then curses herself for even knowing the lyrics to a Simple Plan song.<p>

"Simple Plan," Beca laughs from beside her, "nice," and Aubrey's right eye twitches.

Things are not turning out the way she had hoped, and thanks to last-minute announcements from cheating ex-assholes and the campus population's apparent general lack of appreciation for a headstrong woman and her superior schemes, Aubrey now finds herself seated next to Beca I-haven't-washed-my-hair-in-a-week-because-it-styles-better-when-its-gross-and-stuff Mitchell on the bus ride to the senior retreat and pretending to actually be enjoying that fact.

Chloe's brightest, last-minute idea was this? Sharpie fingernail polish and ear monstrosities? A girl so immensely different, so intensely _other_,that Aubrey wonders if she is even human. Does she have a belly-button? A birth certificate? Questionable.

And the worst part is that Beca wasn't even _flattered _by the proposal; no, she was completely anti-Aubrey (which okay, as if Aubrey isn't a giant upgrade from stained jeans and Treble-Maker toning; Beca should be thankful that Aubrey would even consider holding her hand, let alone faking an entire relationship with her) until Chloe made her some kind of deal, of which Aubrey didn't even want to know the details, nor does she care. The two of them making eyes at each other was enough to make her stomach turn.

Hold it in, Posen.

She got what she needed, not exactly what she _wanted,_but what she needed.

Kind of.

She guesses.

"Hand," Aubrey demands in a hiss when she catches ex-asshole glancing curiously her way on the bus, his arm slung around skank's shoulders.

Beca startles at the command. "Huh, wha—?" she blurts, and Aubrey has to count to three to keep from exploding. Her eye twitches harder. _1. _Twitch. _2. 3._

"_Hand. Now,"_she says through gritted teeth. Beca looks at her like she's crazy but still sticks her hand out. Aubrey is desperate but she isn't taking any chances with her hygiene, so she squirts two quick pumps of Germ-X on Beca's palm and rubs it in speedily before lacing their fingers together and moving their joined hands so that they can be seen from the aisle.

"Dude," Beca drawls, "where did that Germ-X even come from?"

"Hush," Aubrey whispers. She watches Beca turn to look at Chloe sitting across from them and they share a sweet but insidious smile that Aubrey_knows _is mocking her. She is a Posen, for Christ's sake. Posens' are innately perceptive. She doesn't care. She knows the scheme is a little out of left field, but she refuses to be humiliated again by her loser of an ex.

She jerks Beca's hand. "Stop looking at Chloe," she commands. "You're supposed to be _my _date so act like it."

"What do you want me to do, Aubrey?" Beca snaps, rolling her eyes. "I'm already holding your freaking hand. It's not like we're gonna make out in the middle of the bu—-"

Aubrey doesn't think. She just acts, and god, no, why? _Why?_

Okay, it isn't _that _bad. She's exaggerating, but still … it's Beca Mitchell. Aubrey can practically taste the _alternative _on her tongue.

It's a sloppy kiss and Beca flails but Aubrey pinches the skin behind her arm and she jerks and then relaxes into the kiss. It has to look awkward, she knows, but at least it looks real; that much she knows, because when they pull apart, Chloe's chin is on her chest and ex-asshole's eyebrows are sprinting toward his hair, and Beca is gasping for breath, and Aubrey is burning with pride.

That's what you get when you mess with a Posen. Aca-annihilated.

And this is only the bus ride.


End file.
